MOVIE REVIEW: Nothing much revealed by 'In Secret'

There have been several versions of Emile Zola's 19th century novel “Therese Raquin” adapted to the screen, but none as dull and lifeless as writer-director Charlie Stratton's “In Secret.”

By Al AlexanderFor The Patriot Ledger

There have been several versions of Emile Zola’s 19th century novel “Therese Raquin” adapted to the screen, but none as dull and lifeless as writer-director Charlie Stratton’s “In Secret.” What is meant to be a shocking mash up of passion, murder and longing is transformed into a heavy dose of Sominex by Stratton, who has spent nearly all of his acting-directing career on mediocre TV shows and specials (“The Tai Babilonia Story”). He’s clearly in over his head from the beginning when we meet the bizarro Raquin clan led by the eccentric Madame Raquin (Jessica Lange doing her best Bette Davis), who is ward to her sickly, foppish son, Camille (“Harry Potter’s” Tom Felton, sporting a horrid comb over) and her meek, mousy niece Therese (somnambulist Elizabeth Olsen). While growing up, the young ‘uns shared a bed, so it only makes sense that Madame Raquin calls for an arranged marriage as soon as they become adults. Problem is, Therese isn’t keen to the idea. She has sexual oats to sow and her consumptive hubby is physically unable to compensate. But his childhood friend, the dark and dashing Laurent LeClaire (Oscar Isaac), is. How fortunate that he should mysteriously appear at their Paris shop just when the script calls for it. Lust and naughty lovemaking ensue, all carried out right under Madame’s nosy nose.

Such scenes scream out Harlequin more than Zola, and it’s all you can do not to laugh. But what’s even funnier is the notion of having a largely American cast speaking in sketchy British accents even though they are supposed to be French. The biggest (unintentional) giggles occur once Laurent and Therese plot to kill Camille so they can marry. The murder is straight out of “A Place in the Sun,” and a dozen of others like it. And that’s the key problem with “In Secret”: It’s just like hundreds of other movies and TV shows in which lovers conspire to lethally remove the one roadblock between them.

The result is pure boredom because you always know what’s happening next, right down to the grieving Madame’s all-too-convenient stroke. Although I have to admit Lange does some of her best acting when Madame is speechless and confined to a wheelchair. But once she’s out of the way, all we’re left with is the unenviable task of watching Laurent and Therese slowly – and I mean slowly – be consumed by guilt and betrayal. Their decline might not have been so pedestrian if Isaac (hot off his terrific turn in “Inside Llewyn Davis”) and Olsen weren’t so starved of sexual chemistry. They may share several scenes in which they go after each other like dogs in heat, but the passion never translates beyond perfunctory. In fact, the same could be said for the entire movie, which lacks any hint of a pulse.

So much so, you can only conclude that what happens in “In Secret” should have stayed a secret.